Shadowdance
by nightbird47
Summary: Garak takes a trip down a holographic yellow brick road with his best friend, one which will change both their lives. This is the next story in the series begun by Seduction and follows a month or so later. Takes place during the Dominion war, with the variations introduced in Seduction.
1. Preperation

Shadowdance

This is the second of a series of stories in the Seduction storyline, written before DS9 continued the Section 31 time line beyond Inquisition. This is an alternate time line where the details are different. The first story in this series is Seduction. This is the second. The third is a short novel, Paying the Piper, and the last part will be called Redemption.

With this story, each segment is a branching of the yellow brick road.

Disclaimer: This Is. a work of fiction. Julian Bashir, Elim Garak, Miles O'Brien, Felix, Quark, Rom, DS9, and the cannon portions of the trek universe are the property of Paramount Studios. The planet Zas'sana and its culture, war, and population are mine.

Preparation

Karmin/Picard (when first waking): Computer, End Program

Karmin to Eline (upon accepting the reality): It was real. It was as real as this is.

Picard to Riker (after living Karmin's life): Yes, yes, thank you. But I find that I'm ... I'm having to rediscover that this reality is my home.

Star Trek, the Next Generation, "The Inner Light"

ooo0000ooo

It was the first time in a month that Julian had made it to lunch, and it was obvious he was hardly listening to the conversation. Instead, he had fixed his gaze at a distant figure, a hard and bitter look in his eyes. Garak watched carefully, noting the look, present since his return from the trip to Abersand's Station and his illness. Garak continued the conversation, keeping up the fiction, but watched the figure as he drew closer. He wasn't surprised to see Sisko. Julian had been decidedly cold toward the man since he'd come back, even if it was only to Garak's experienced eye.

"Is something wrong?" asked Garak. "You seem distracted."

"I have some things I need to do," said Julian, a trifle hesitantly.

"Perhaps later," said Garak. He had the impression Julian just wanted to leave.

Julian nodded, and Garak noticed a brief look of deep pain.

He wondered just what had happened to his friend during that visit and why he had grown so cold inside.

ooo0000ooo

It was a surprise, after the distant reception at lunch, when Julian had appeared at his shop that evening just before closing. "I have a new holoprogram. I was wondering if you'd like to try it."

Garak was curious about the change in mood, from the detached Julian at lunch to the suddenly friendly one. "I did have plans this evening," said Garak carefully, "but perhaps tomorrow night?"

"Certainly," said Julian. "Dinner first?" He was the friend he'd known before, and it confused Garak. He didn't trust sudden changes in people, especially when they tried to hide them.

He had his suspicions, but was too curious. It had always been a failing he'd had to be wary of. "Quark's then?" he asked.

"I'll be there as soon as I'm done." Julian paused, thinking about something. "He wants a critique of this one so keep it quiet."

Garak ignored the alarm that he felt over the request. It didn't make any sense. But Felix had created Vic. It was possible that this was something just as remarkable, and he didn't want it known quite yet. Perhaps Julian was just testing it for his friend. That was quite reasonable, he told himself. It was just enough of a possibility to keep him intrigued. The doctor's behavior had been a bit erratic since his near fatal illness anyway. Perhaps the evening would help.

ooo000ooo

Garak decided to go to Quarks for dinner that night, and noticed O'Brien by himself. He kept glancing at the door, as if he was waiting for someone. Garak wondered if it was Julian. He had noticed he played darts very little of late. When he did, he didn't appear to be paying much attention to the game, like he'd been with Garak at lunch. O'Brien looked annoyed, and Garak was just curious enough to ask.

"I assume someone didn't show up tonight," he commentated, and O'Brien looked more annoyed than before.

"You've noticed," said O'Brien.

"He has missed several regular lunches with myself, with neither a note he couldn't make it or even any sign he remembered we planned to meet." Garak was as annoyed, in his own way, as O'Brien and chose to let it show this time.

O'Brien turned grim. "Something happened to him. He just isn't the same. He doesn't want anything to do with anybody here." He turned to Garak. "I'm sure you've noticed."

Garak was in agreement. "I believe most of the others simply see him as distracted by events. But I have to agree. He is no longer interested in being a part of this place."

O'Brien sighed. "It's that last assignment. I know he was sick, but there was something else. He won't talk about it."

"The doctor is a very private man," mused Garak.

Both were mulling over the puzzle of what happened to their friend when Sisko walked by the door. O'Brien glanced up at him. "Except with him. He knows what happened. Do you notice how he and Julian won't look at each other unless they have to?"

Garak was privately surprised the Chief was so observant. "He was keeping a very close eye on the Captain earlier."

Looking at the corridor, O'Brien observed, "I get the feeling it's mutual, too."

ooo000ooo

The next morning, Julian was late for breakfast. Garak noted that he was very distracted, and quite sleepy. He ate by himself, ignoring everyone around him. Miles had tried to start a conversation and been rebuffed. He simply concentrated on his food to the exclusion of all else, as if he was the only one in the room. Even the other officers had glanced at him and shaken their heads, leaving him alone.

Garak waited until Julian had left and O'Brien was just finishing to approach. He didn't need to say who he was referring to. O'Brien had been watching too. "Is he like this often in the morning?"

O'Brien looked up. "No, just now and then, when he's had a late night. Quark said he showed up real late for a holoprogram. Must not have gotten much sleep."

"Someone needs to have a talk with the good doctor," said Garak. "I don't think lack of sleep was the problem."

O'Brien studied him. "He isn't like this often. Maybe he had a bad nightmare and couldn't sleep."

Garak didn't want to say what he suspected there, but thought the concerned talk should come from O'Brien rather than him. "It is said a wise doctor is not his own patient. I fear our friend is not following this advise."

O'Brien surprised him. "Yeah, I know." Garak suspected the talk had been tried and refuted. "You want to ask him about it?" he said sarcastically. "I've tried. He pretended that he didn't know what I was talking about. He thinks nobody notices that he can't wake up when he uses a little to much. It takes him half the day before it wears off."

Garak felt a tinge of worry about the evening, but it was just a holoplay. Julian might not even make it. He'd lived a dangerous life with Tain, he should be fine. No need to miss the chance for a few answers. He told himself that all day, wondering what the evening would bring.


	2. Initialization

Initialization

0000ooo0000

By dinnertime, Julian had recovered from his fog, and just turned quiet. "I heard you had a late night," said Garak.

"A bit," was the terse reply.

Julian had a package with him. "Is that for tonight?" he asked.

"Yes, we'll change later," said Julian, preoccupied.

Garak again wondered if this was a good idea, even if it was a chance to see what was going on with his friend. Had Julian been running the new program last night or been at Vic's? The mystery of his only friend's moods was both worrisome and intriguing. So close to the moment, he chose to ignore the alarm that still dogged him.

Quark came by the table. "It's ready for you. You're lucky you booked in advance. Number two isn't working. Quit this morning. Rom said he'd get some time to look at it, but hasn't got to it yet."

There was an *odd* look in Julian's eyes, for just a flash. Quark missed it completely, but Garak didn't. He became cordial. "Thank you for telling us. We won't be keeping the next customer waiting," Julian nodded to Quark.

"Well, better hurry," said the Ferengi, giving Bashir a quick glance, and Garak thought he'd picked up on his customer's odd mood.

ooo000ooo

Garak followed Julian up the stairs, still holding the unopened package, into total darkness. On edge, he chose to ignore the sense of alarm which would not go away. "Oh, sorry," said Julian, slipping open a door. Garak followed him into a dimly lit room, with the fleeting impression he'd gone the wrong direction. But he took the package with the night's costume into a small booth in the corner to change. There was a loose shirt and trousers, and a coat with a lumpy pocket. He felt a small rock intentionally wedged inside it where it would not easily fall out.

There was something both familiar and oddly disturbing about them. He had seen this kind of dress, but could not say when. He was trying to remember where, stalling a bit, when Julian asked with a tinge of impatience, "Are you dressed?"

His tone struck Garak as even more worrisome. Belatedly, he decided to address the growing sense of alarm about the evening. "Yes, but . . . " He didn't have a chance to finish. The dimly lit room vanished, replaced by a deserted street full of shadows and decaying buildings.

Julian became very tense. If he had been acting odd before, the transformation once he stood in the dilapidated street was worse. The doctor slipped into the shadows, moving in tense, worried sprints. Garak followed him into the darkness but waited.

Suspicion tugged at Garak's mind about the clothes and now the setting. He suspected this was not the sort of program Felix usually created. But it wasn't until Julian stopped in front of a building, a half broken door hanging open and several shattered windows that Garak was fully alarmed. Julian said quite calmly, "Begin initialization sequence. Safeties off."

"Perhaps that isn't advisable," said Garak, very cautiously. He was ignored. Suddenly the sounds of the wind appeared and the buildings were creaking. The leaves on the half-dead trees rustled. The broken door was squeaking. And most of all a rotting smell filled the air. "Most interesting place," grumbled Garak, watching as Julian stared intently down the street. He wasn't certain but he suspected their location. With no Safeties he wanted no part of it, but Julian was paying him no attention. He would wait a few minutes before he demanded it be ended.

Julian was lost in a mood. But it matched the setting and the doctor always fell into character quickly during holoplay. He appeared to be intently listening. Abruptly, he shoved Garak into the deep shadows of a crumbling building, past a broken bench near the door. Startled, Garak watched his friend. This time he saw no enjoyment in the play, much like the time their outlandish spy game had turned deadly real and Bashir had really shot him.

Julian slipped out the door and Garak carefully observed from there, keeping to shadow as Julian cautiously slid towards the next building. Someone was waiting and he disappeared into darkness and swiftly returned. There was something in his hand. In a breathless whisper he held up the bundle of papers. "Identification," he said in a loud whisper, then tensed.

Garak heard them too. The sound of heavy footsteps, the thud of the boots crunching bits of decay. And running footsteps. As the door squeaked in the wind, Julian drew him deeply into the room.

He met no resistance. Garak knew now. The doctor was out of his mind cancelling the safeties. The gloomy haze in the room surrounded them, but would not shield them from the patrol when they'd shot the others.

Julian was working on a small door along a trash covered wall, wrenching it open. It had been stuck for a long time. "Hurry," he whispered as the sounds of boots moved their way. Garak swallowed a moment of panic as Julian shoved him inside the dark cavern, and then crawled in himself. The door shut with a whoosh, and sealed. Garak stared at it, closely pressed against the side wall of the chute which narrowed too much to go further. Something wet touched his hand. The doctor must have cut himself on the way in. If the patrol saw blood, he would not have time to panic.

The program needed to end, but the patrol was too close to risk any sound incase anything went wrong. Garak told himself it was not real, but the walls felt very solid. Julian was pressing his shirt against the cut with, Garak thought, some desperation. But no distraction was able to keep the tight, nearly dark place from shrinking in around him until the noise outside their hiding place. Both froze, barely breathing. Garak would end the program himself but it was best for the men outside to go first.

The rotten door was pulled off and fell somewhere on the street. Things were being shoved around in the room. The trash was disturbed, the local version of rodents squealing in protest. Someone banged on the door in the wall, but it must have looked sealed.

During the eternity until they were done with their search, the walls did not trap him. Another rodents nest was disturbed and the men finally stomped out of the room.

Garak counted silently to ten, listening for any hint they might be near and heard none. Certain enough that they were gone, he insistently whispered to Julian, "End this."

Julian shifted a little and his shirt was soaked with wet stickiness. "I can't," he mumbled. His arm was still bleeding, the fabric being pressed as hard as he could. Garak added his own hand to the pressure, as Julian's seem to slip a little.

"Computer, end program," said Garak but nothing happened. "Computer, restore Safeties," he added with fading hope. But again there was nothing.

Then something most odd. The immediate crisis over, he felt a tingling in his head so faint he had not noticed it before, as if someone was crawling inside his brain. Then it stopped, to be replaced with a high pitched buzzing. Julian suddenly fainted. As Garak felt conciseness slip away a woman's voice spoke. "Initialization complete. Warning: no Safeties in place." It was the last words that filled his mind as he sank into oblivion.


	3. Escape

Escape

ooo0000ooo

Garak came to first. There was a hint of light filtering into the cramped trash chute. Julian was still out, crumpled against the side of the door. His arm was a sticky mess of dried blood. Garak shook him gently but he did not wake. He pulled the gummy fingers from the sticky wound. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound was dirty. He shook Julian once again, harder this time, but to no result.

"End program," he said, but was not surprised when nothing happened. Julian probably had to end it himself. There was a vague mumble from Julian. "End this. It is going too far."

Julian whispered softly, "Can't. Has to be played through," before he collapsed again.

Garak shook him again, harder, because they had to move on to somewhere safer. Julian was disoriented but awake. Garak insisted, "Help me get this open." Between the two of them the door fell open and bounced, making a loud thud. Garak froze, resisting the desire to run from the cramped space. Even Julian was silent through his fog as they listened for noise. But today there was no patrol.

With the sounds of wind and creaking buildings, Garak half carried Julian out of the chute but stumbled in the trash below and the doctor fell, cradling his arm against his chest. For a moment Garak wondered if there had been some slight sound from the chute, but the rodents had saved them.

Half dragging him, Garak moved Julian to a better spot. At least they had already searched the building. He pulled the fabric away from the arm, examining the cut in the greyish light. "We have to clean this," he said. He did not say that it was pink all around the edges of the wound.

Julian pointed at a heap of junk in a corner the searchers had ignored. "In there. There's food and water hidden."

Garak wondered how he knew, but was slowly becoming aware of something odd. He was hungry. No, more like famished. The smell of the building had penetrated his clothes and skin. But Quark only rented by the hour and they'd just eaten before they entered. It made no sense, but he craved the hidden food. Nor could he explain how Bashir's wound had gotten so bad so quickly. Holosuite or not, Julian's face was very pale and his arm already infected. Something had knocked them out, but Quark would have sent someone to the holosuite long before now.

With his stomach rumbling, Garak distastefully began moving the pile of trash. Under a thick layer of old, crumbling garbage was a large barrel, and he cleared the top. A small knife was fastened there and he used it to break the seals.

Julian tried to sit up and moved his arm. He slipped back to the floor and groaned. Garak hoped there was some sort of medkit hidden with the other supplies. Sitting the top on the ground upside down so there would be somewhere clean to put the supplies, he began to unpack it. There was a first aid kit just under a layer of water.

Garak drank a welcome gulp. He had not realized how thirsty he was. Then he made Julian drink more. Cleaning the wound, the doctor mumbled, "Didn't plan on this," before passing out again.

When the wound was cleaned and bandaged, he woke his friend and made him eat. The food he found in the barrel was hardly appealing, but somehow it tasted like a feast. Julian rolled on his side and fell asleep and Garak covered him with loose trash. He hid a little further away under more of the trash, telling himself they would not look again. But somehow, after Julian had rested they had to keep playing until they found the end.

o0o

Julian was already feverish when Garak woke him. It had been, in subjective time, most of a day. Garak hadn't sorted out the details yet, but the program had somehow changed their perception of time. He couldn't tell if his grumbling stomach was real or a psychological simulation, but the hunger was real. And he was certain the mess on Julian's arm and his low fever were dangerous in any case.

Before waking the doctor, Garak had investigated the nearby area to assure himself that it was deserted. There was neither food nor soldiers in the decaying buildings. It worried him more that Julian was injured. He knew where they were, and what had happened there, and unless the doctor could "guide" them thru this adventure, they would likely both end up dead. He was certain now. During his search he'd found one of the posters. Their adventure was set in the middle of a revolution, playing the role of the most prominent victims.

Zas'sana was a rough, half developed planet, its few cities small and run by vicious overlords whose authority extended little beyond the city farms. But it had notably rich deposits of rare minerals. The Federation, among others, had long ago taken interest in this bounty. In time a small foreign colony had formed, living under the protection of a local overlord who called himself the Ballou. Life was relatively secure if not quite as comfortable as some of the visitors were used to and isolated from the general populace. But this arrangement had ended rather suddenly when the Ballou fell ill, and his rivals took advantage of the situation. His sudden death had thrown the society into civil war, and the one thing every side agreed about were the foreigners. It was believed their presence had brought ruin to the Ballou, and would continue to until they were gone.

The foreigners had run. Some had made it to the mountains, but those who didn't became trophies for the different sides.. An attempt at evacuation was tried, both too little and too late. Those who had gathered to leave went into hiding, if they were lucky. If they were not they often were executed. The locals did not like the incursion into their world by the foreign military and had all the captives they wanted.

What puzzled Garak was the identification Bashir had gotten for them. It claimed they belonged to a faction disliked by most everyone, and known for being cheaters. Even if it was believed, it would likely end with execution or worse, because there were scores to settle. He chose to believe it was the best his companion could do, because otherwise something far more complicated was going on.

But Julian would have to wake up and be coherent to explain.

After a rest, he was fished out of his nest so Garak could check his arm again and this time he was awake.

Garak watched as he opened his eyes, groaning softly. "Julian, why are we on Zas'sana in the middle of a civil war without safties?"

Julian looked as if he was trying to remember. "It's complicated," he said, gingerly fingering his arm. "There's an escape route," he continued, wincing as Garak removed the bandage. The wound was yellow around a jagged rip, surrounded by pink.

"This has to be treated," said Garak. Whatever was real here, the wound certainly was. "Do you know where we find a doctor?"

Julian tried to hide the pain, but it was evident as he tried not to move the arm. "I think so. We must hurry," he mumbled, and Garak thought there was more wrong than the cut. Studying the room, Bashir added, "And we must be gone before the patrols come back." He said nothing more as the wound was re-bandaged.

Garak said, a bit impatient, "If you have any suggestions I will be quite relieved."

Julian was too busy to notice the tone, trying to stand and still keep his balance. "There is a trail," he said, out of breath and swaying a bit until Garak took his good arm. "I think I'm going to need your help."

Garak helped him across the room to a low table that had shown itself after the trash had been moved. He helped him sit, fashioning a sling from a piece of fabric torn from his shirt. He'd collected the medkit and supplies already, filling a pack that had been found at the bottom of the rest. It was heavy but Julian couldn't help now. After a little more food and water, Garak helped his companion to his feet and towards the door, both hesitant as they entered the street and took shelter in shadows.

Julian was too dizzy and feverish for it to be just a cut, thought Garak, as he half supported him waiting for a direction to run.

The doctor pointed down the street, away from the dilapidated buildings. In the distance were rocky foot hills which turned into mountains. They would be without the minimal protection of the abandoned town. As they passed the last of the town, a faint trace of trail could be seen which split off in several directions. The doctor indicated the middle track, and they began their long walk.

o0o

The trail wound around rocks and small openings which both would not fit through. Julian managed to stumble through somehow most of the time, only falling a few times. The rest of the time Garak had to help support him. What worried Garak most was if in this condition he would not remember their way through the twisting paths. Garak was exhausted. They had walked for hours with little more than moonlight to guide them, taking short breaks for water and a little food. The pack was far lighter than it had been. Bashir stopped, pointing out a small overhang in the rocks.

Garak studied him. He was near collapsing. "Is this it?"

"No, but there's water," the doctor whispered rather weakly. "We can rest before the next part."

Garak gathered it might be harder. Julian swayed and had to be caught. "Can you walk?" he asked

Julian's legs crumpled under him. "In a while," he said taking a deep breath.

Garak mostly dragged him to the rock overhang, and found the stash easily. There was nothing but water, but they had been sharing what was in the pack sparingly.

Julian had settled against a mostly smooth surface but he held his arm quite still. Garak slipped off the sling as Julian winced, but he was holding back most of it. "I hope," he said softly as Garak unwound the bandage. "It's not far, but its rocky. I can't take the chance of falling."

The wound was beyond simple cleaning. His fever spoke of a deep infection. But then Julian had probably already guessed. Garak cleaned it as best he could and replaced the bandage with a clean one, but without a doctor and medication quite soon it would be too late. Julian fell asleep, and sitting in the dark, Garak stared into the gloom, trying to figure out how he'd gotten here. He did not remember anything but endless fear and shadows anymore.

He didn't like mysteries when he was in the middle of them. They were on Zas'sana running for their lives. Julian had brought them here, but he did not recall how. In his exhaustion he did not care as long as the doctor did not die and leave him alone, and somehow they managed to survive. In darkness and exhaustion, he gave into sleep.


	4. Forgetting

Forgetting

ooo0000ooo

He woke to Julian's careful shakes. The doctor looked terrible, but he was awake and moving. "Wake up, Garak. We have to go."

Looking out over the desolate territory, Garak wondered if it would have been better to take his chances hiding out in the city. It hadn't been this cold and there were more options than a rocky trail and a sick friend to lead them. He dragged himself up on sore feet. It was still dark, but the first hints of dawn were starting to show. "Is there time?" he asked.

Julian was leaning against the wall to support himself. His face was pale with red patches from the fever. "It's not too far. You'll have to help steady me but I can make it."

Garak made him sit and gave him water, and they divided the rest of the food. "We need to eat first," he stated insistently.

Julian drank what he could and picked at the food, eating just a little. Wrapping it up he handed it to Garak. "I need to move now while I can."

Garak tried cleansing and re-bandaging the arm but was waived away. "You know that won't make any difference," said his friend grimly.

He quietly put the bandages away, but could not quite cover the fear that his friend would die along the trail and leave him lost.

Holding Julian by his good arm, he guided them out to the trail. With a firm grip of shaking shoulders, he followed the mumbled directions, hoping at the end of each bend to find their destination.

Eventually, after perhaps an hour and early dawn lighting the skies, they came upon a small side trail. Julian pointed at it silently and Garak half carried him along the barely visible trail. At the end was a small cave.

Bashir mostly whispered, "This is the rendevous point. Remember the code." Garak nodded and guided him inside the entrance, pulling him toward the darker, and perhaps safer, end of the cave.

Collapsing against the smooth walls, Bashir pointed at a pile of rocks. "There's food hidden in the rocks, not sure what else." The last words were barely audible.

Checking on the catch of food, he wondered if he was dreaming. His stomach growled unceasingly with hunger, but there was an odd feeling that he had eaten quite well recently. But if it was a dream why was he so hungry? Uncovering it, he was disappointed there was so little, but divided it and ate all of his. Julian was asleep or unconscious, and he added the new food to what had been saved before.

It was still cold. He hated the icy winds of the hills. Julian was hot from the fever but could not be so visible. He gathered the drifting leaves to conceal him. His arm was rigidly curled against him, and he knew it would only wake him to clean it.

Scouting the opening briefly, careful to be silent, he retreated back into the darkness at the end of the cave. Someone should keep watch, but he too was exhausted. Gathering more leaves around him, a thicker layer hoping for some warmth, he stared into darkness for only a little while before falling asleep.


	5. Immersion

Immersion

ooo0000ooo

There was something about the smell of the cave, and the musty leaves, that connected with the rare happy moments of his youth. Garak was dreaming about it when a loud sound suddenly vanquished the dream and he startled awake, not entirely sure where he was. But only briefly. He slid partially out of his cocoon of leaves.

Julian had not moved. He waited , listening carefully, until satisfied it wasn't a trap and slid free of the leaves. Pulling Julian free of his cover, he pushed away a trace of fear. Julian had made this run many times and knew the contacts. He knew the password, but did not know if they would believe him. His friend did not react when he was moved, nor when his arm was removed from the sling. It was sticky and swollen, and Garak pulled back the bandages with care. If the contact did not show up soon, and had a doctor available Garak would be alone. Not only on Zas'sana but in his life, for this was his only friend.

Alone he stood no chance at all of survival.

Yet the odd sense persisted. He opened the pack and ate a little of Bashir's food, calming his stomach a little, but not enough. Putting away the rest, he told himself he was not used to starving. Perhaps that was why his life now was so odd.

He knew the failed rescue attempt had condemned those abandoned there to death. But he did not know how. They'd left relative safety in the deserted town in hopes of rescue. Eventually the patrol would have found them. Their only chance was distance and a hope, even if faint, of going home. Julian had made his last run in any case. Listening to the sound of wind and rustling leaves, Garak hoped it had not been a mistake.

o0o

Garak dribbled water on Julian's lips, and was relieved when it was swallowed. At least that was a sign of life. His arm was worse and almost a day had passed since they'd arrived at the cave. Perhaps the rest had helped since the doctor did not seem much worse than he had on arrival. But even if a doctor was found soon, it was doubtful he'd recover in this place.

He'd eaten half of the remaining food. It worried him that he felt the persistent hunger less keenly. His body was adapting. At least Julian probably didn't notice being hungry. If no one came, he'd eat the last of it that night.

More water having been fed to his friend, Garak was ready to let him rest when Julian suddenly mumbled something Garak had to listen closely to understand. "Sorry with the safeties. I shouldn't have shut them off," was the best Garak could guess. He must have been dreaming of one of their adventures in Quarks holosuites.

Sitting quietly in the eternal rustling leaves, Garak remembered the last time they'd gone to Quarks. This place reminded him of it a little too much. For unknown reasons Julian had suddenly shut off the safeties. Considering the dangers, Garak had insisted it be ended and Julian complied. But why? His friend had been changed since Abersand's, but that much?

Things had been a bit strained when they'd left on the runabout, and after they'd arrived on Zas'sana the runabout had been taken and they'd been stranded. Bashir had come down with a local virus too, and he suspected with the arm it had returned. Julian stirred again, and Garak gave him more water, noticing the food. He told himself their contact would be there soon, and there would be more to eat as he finished the last of it before falling into an uneasy sleep.


	6. Contact

Contact

ooo0000ooo

He was awake the instant he heard the noise, only a brief surprise as the reality of the cave took over from his dreams. Someone was near. He could hear them as they entered the cave. He pulled Julian to the darkest corner as quietly as he could, his friend mostly limp. It was too easy to keep him quiet.

Hiding where he could not be seen but could see them, Garak's was almost relieved that if it was over it would come now.

Footsteps approached, and soft voices. He froze, listening carefully. "It's okay. We were delayed. We had to backtrack this time," said a woman's voice. Garak nervously hunched back in the darkness until he could be more sure of who it was.

He tensed as they drew closer. It did not sound like a patrol, but then it might not be any different with Julian unable to reply. He'd told Garak the password just before they'd run, just incase, but had his friends grown so suspicious maybe they'd shoot first now?

Julian stirred, rolling on his arm and groaning. Garak froze.

"It won't rain for at least a month", said a man's voice.

Garak answered, cautiously. "But we need the water."

Two people came into the gloom with a light. Garak moved toward Bashir, trying to move him off his arm as gently as he could so they might see he who it was.

"Are you Garak?" asked the woman carefully, watching him closely.

"Yes. Do you have a doctor with you?" he asked, for it was impossible to miss Julian's condition.

She moved towards the doctor, while the man watched. He felt he should explain. "He hurt his arm in the abandoned area when we had to hide from a patrol. I've done what I could but its badly infected.

She must have signaled the man it was all right because he relaxed a little, and came forward.

"I'm Keela," she said, introducing herself. He nodded while she pulled the doctor's arm straight from his curl to examine it.

"I think he must have been sick before that. Perhaps three days," added Garak.

She pulled a medkit from her pack and handed it to Garak, unwrapping the bandages.

"I changed it often before it got so bad. Water wasn't going to make much difference after that."

"It looks bad, but there is some stuff in there that should help," she said.

Garak was relieved she did not seem to blame him. Perhaps it would not end as he'd feared.

The man was watching the opening carefully, just in case they'd been seen. She was on edge and backed off a little.

"I'll leave this to you. I think we need to be getting doc."

Garak nodded. "I didn't think it was the fever at first."

She looked mildly annoyed. "I told him to lay low. We ran out of medicine a few weeks ago, and he shouldn't have taken the chance. He said he had to get you first." She was worried, more than she was willing to say, and he guessed they were friends. "We could have sent someone else to get you."

He wasn't sure it would have been so simple but that no longer mattered. Nor did he know if he would have done the same. "There was something else he had to do. Before we left he was gone for several hours on something important."

"Wouldn't be surprised," she said. "He was so determined to go, even after he admitted someone else could get you. I hope it was important enough."

Garak watched her face. She knew the doctor well, and that he would not change his mind if it really mattered. But she did not want to lose a friend.

"He considered it very important." Garak suspected it had something to do with the fallout since Abersand's. He remembered how the outlandish spy programs had lost their fun after one became so real.

"I sure hope it was," she said, fishing out a container of food, not the survival type he'd had before but something cooked and packaged. She handed it to him. "We'll try to be back today. This is mostly for you."

He realized he had been accepted. At least if Julian died he might have a chance. But it would be a very lonely place.

Julian groaned and he opened the medkit, noting it had antibiotics and better things to clean the wound. And pain meds for the procedure. He began to move his friend so it would be simpler to do his work. As they turned to leave, he looked up. "Hurry," he said and she nodded.

They disappeared out of the cave, and he noticed they'd left the light as well. Gritting his teeth, he took a sterile cloth and placed it on Julian's chest so he had a measure of cleanliness as he did his work and wished them a swift and safe journey and a quick return.

o0o

A few hours had passed, when taking advantage of the darkness, the woman and her doctor returned.. Garak was relieved of his watch and presented with a small platter of food, carefully wrapped. He ate as slowly as he could, but could not pretend how much he wanted it. But the oddness returned. It was very familiar, but he did not remember any of the ingredients. He did not dwell on the oddness, just the food.

He'd cleaned the wound as best he could, hesitant to use any of the drugs. If Julian were too weak it could harm him. Keela moved towards the front, watching, while the doctor began a procedure.

"I need you to help," said the young man. Julian had once been that young, when he'd first met him. There was even a physical resemblance. "Hold him down while I work on this. I gave him a mild pain killer but can't risk more."

Garak moved closer, holding his friend as best he could. He tried not to watch but could not turn away in the end. He would not ask his chances. He was afraid of the answer.

Sleeping, the arm treated and cleaned well, Julian looked younger than the man he'd become with too much that Garak recognized in himself. The lines of strain had relaxed. His fever was down. Garak missed his friend. But with matters at hand improved he dared hope he would find him again. If the revolutionaries didn't find them, he thought perhaps they might make it home.

The last months had been a nightmare. Returning from a briefing, Bashir had stopped on Zas'sana for a medical emergency. Shortly after that the Ballou died and the runabout was gone and they were stuck. They'd tried to evacuate, but ran for their lives in the end. He was tired. Perhaps Julian was too. However it came out, he just wanted it over. Supposedly there was a second Federation rescue in the works, but those they were to rescue were balanced between allowing hope and escaping disappointment. If it failed again, there wasn't anywhere else to run.

But Julian was up to something. Several of the factions had allied themselves with the Dominion and information was available for a price. Julian would disappear periodically with no explanation, but always too keyed up. He was new at the job, and it concerned Garak. Beginners made too many mistakes. If only he might offer a few suggestions from one more experienced . . .

And he'd told Garak the code about rain just before they left the city, but there was something else. He'd said, with that intense look that meant it was very important, that if anything happened to him, Garak would have to do something for him. Someone would contact him, he'd know when it happened. There was a phrase in Bajoran to remember and a small object in his pocket he was to give to the contact. Perhaps Julian already knew he was sick. But Garak had spent the many miles that followed debating if it came from some bit of surviving naivete or a deeper understanding of himself on Julian's part than he was willing to admit.


	7. Camp

Camp

ooo000ooo

They had spent several days in the cavern, watching constantly and listening for every sound. The young doctor had managed to stem the infection, though unhealed, and Julian was well enough to be half carried to the main camp in the mountains. Julian slept, still very sick, and Garak behaved quite properly. After gaining their acceptance of sorts, he kept to himself. If they became suspicious of him, they would shoot him as readily as the patrols. Survival had taken its toll.

The camp was small and hidden in a secluded valley, with a few buildings thrown together in haste. One was full of beds. After a nap, Garak woke feeling the need to move about. Strange after the exhaustion of that trail his body should miss its challenges. Restless, Garak wandered about the camp until he found Keela. At least she was likely to trust him enough to allow him something to do.

She was in the mess where they prepared the daily soup. She handed him his bowl and he finished it too quickly. "Nothing more until tonight, " she said.

"How bad are the other supplies?" he asked, hoping for a better answer than he guessed.

"Bad. We really needed those supplies he brought in." She looked scared. If they ran too low it might be a choice of compromising their security to find more or suffering.

"How bad?" he asked, taking a chance.

"We cut down now, way down." She paused, looking across some invisible space. "We've got about a weeks worth otherwise. Of course if they manage to find this place it won't matter."

He had no idea why she was being so open with him. "If there is anything I can do to help," he offered.

She was deciding if she should share. Apparently he passed. "We have reports they're closer. We have to get out of here. But we need someplace else to go."

She was a good actor. You'd never guess things were that bad. "If I can be of service in some way, any way. I have a wide range of skills," he said carefully.

"That's what Julian said." She paused. "We're working on something. Julian's supposed to go to the meeting but he's too ill. He wants you to go for him."

The little rock he still carried and that phrase came to mind. Perhaps his friend was better at it than he thought. Just what had he volunteered for?

"We have plans to move on," she said softly. "And safe passage. We've pretty much worked out the details. We're going there."

She showed him an area marked off on a map she was carrying. It was a long way off. Julian was not well enough for that. "You trust them?"

"What choice do we have?" she said bluntly. "There will be local support there. At least its better than here." He nodded, nothing to say. "They have their own reasons too. The Ballou's family is from there. They did very well off foreign trade and figure it might look good to be kind to the foreigners when the dust settles."

"Quite true." He didn't trust them much but it was better than nothing. Quark was quite right about there being something in it for your ally.

"It's soon," she said, answering the unasked question. "We don't have a choice. Julian has to hurry up and get well fast." She took a deep breath and they shared a moment of silent hope. Or dread. He did not know which. "Meanwhile nobody leaves. We can't risk anyone being followed back."

At least a creek ran through the camp. They would not run out of water.

She had told him about the plan because Julian could not go, even if it wasn't official yet. And because the doctor had chosen him as a replacement. But they did not trust him.

He just wanted to wake up from the nightmare and go home, even if that was Deep Space Nine.


	8. Choices

Choices

ooo0000ooo

Julian finished his bowl of soup, their only meal that day, and eyed Garak. "I guess we can call that lunch," he said.

"Certainly, it's the right time of day." They cooked the meal when the sun was up so absolute dark would be maintained at night. "And your well enough to be out of bed."

It had been a week since his conversation with Keela. She had given him no hint of a time, but he'd been working at the camp, doing anything he could. She treated him exactly as she did everyone else. It was a measure of trust he wanted to encourage.

"My doctor wasn't as optimistic," said Julian. He moved his arm, wincing a little. It was still heavily bandaged. "If we don't get more medical supplies he might be right." He reached inside his pocket and pulled out another rock, this one peculiarly shaped. "I won't be able to go. You'll have to go instead."

They exchanged a glance and Garak removed the one he'd been given. "Would you like to trade?"

"Not now." It was a test and Garak decided that so far he'd passed.

"I assume this is the real reason for you going into the city."

"Not the only one. There was you. No matter what Keela says, not everyone would trust you enough to get you here."

Under normal circumstances, Garak thought, they would be quite right. But here there was nothing to worry about. He had no illusions about the locals. "I suppose I should be flattered," he said, "Or perhaps you understand me better than most."

"Perhaps both," said Julian. His look softened, diffused as if he was somewhere else. "We would never have gotten out of Internment Camp 371 without you."

"And myself as well," added Garak.

The hard practical look in the doctors eyes looked quite foreign to Garak, even in Zas'sana. "Of course." His watched Garak with a steady look, one which did not belong to the man he'd known before his illness and it was disturbing. He held out the object, holding it where only Garak could see it. "This information matters as much as what we stopped when we escaped. It has to get off this planet. I can't get to the meeting, but you can."

Garak wondered if the medical emergency had even been real, but understood fully. "They are expecting you."

"Either of us. It was set up that way. My meds were out and I needed you here and had to make sure you made it."

Garak barely recognized him the tone was so cold. "I see you learned something from our adventures together," he said, a bit sadly, torn between a kind of pride and the wish he was still playing a game at Quarks.

"Yes, some . . ." Then the hard cold look returned. He tried to stand and Garak had to support him. "I trust you to give this to them. It could be used to buy our way off this miserable planet, but in Starfleet's hands it will be far more useful to everyone."

Garak was a little flattered, but wondered if it was fully warranted. "It has to do with the Dominion," said Garak.

"You know not to ask that question."

"It wasn't a question."

Silence covered the shifting of roles. "True. Go with Keela to the meeting. You know the password."

Bashir was fading and needed to rest. Garak helped him back into bed. "You're certain these people will accept me. Keela is fine but the others?"

"Quite certain." He gave Garak the rock. "Drop this where it won't be overly noticed. That's the signal you're from me."

He just nodded. "If only this plan was more dependable," he added.

Bashir understood. "Given the choice of being trapped here or chancing escape, I'll take the latter."

Garak said nothing, but didn't have to. And all the while he wondered if this one was as much a long shot as the escape from the internment camp. But knew in the end there remained one option.

Julian lost all the coldness and the hard eyes vanished. He did not belong to his handlers yet. But he had already passed beyond the point of no return and should they live, it would only be a matter of time.

o0o

Of those in the small party, only Keela was not wary of Garak. But after his talk that day, Bashir had lapsed into a bad day, with a spike in fever, and there was no question what had to be done. They left after dark, following an unmarked trail to another small cave. She led them into a hidden entrance, and followed it back until they were deep inside. The room was lit this time. There were three men waiting for them.

One was Starfleet, or had been. He'd been marooned long enough the shine had worn off. One was a local. The other came from the same colony as their fake ID. He wondered which would make contact for the strange rock.

He pushed his hand in a pocket as everyone stared at the other side. Pulling out his hand the rock fell without great notice into the pebbles on the ground. Keela began. "We have come."

The local was watching him. "Why is this man here instead of your doctor?" he said in heavily accented standard.

"He's very ill. I was asked to come instead," Garak replied, sticking to Standard.

They looked at Keela and she nodded, but he could tell she was the only among his companions not disturbed by his presence. "That is true," she said.

The local walked forward and picked up the stone. Cracking it open, he pulled out something wedged inside. He looked at the others. "I will deal with him."

Everyone relaxed a little. But nobody mentioned the Bajoran word, and Garak considered which was the likely contact. But the rescue plan was discussed. The starfleeter was acting as adviser and apparently in contact with Starfleet. He and the local occasionally had a short private discussion and the third man would agree. Keela and her group did not argue, only suggesting a few things which would make it safer or easier. None were included. Garak watched the starfleeter carefully, recognizing a practiced manner which did not fit his story as an engineer. The other man backed away and simply watched.

He was expecting the starfleeter to make his move. It helped distract him from the details of the rescue plan. They would leave at night, eventually making a rendevous with the locals and be given sanctuary there. The ship the Federation was sending would pick them up from there. There was relative safety once they reached their goal, but it was a long walk on dangerous pathways. The alternative was still worse, either being executed or starving.

Julian would have to be carried, and even then it was risky. With only Keela giving him any measure of trust, he hoped that somehow Julian survived.

Food was served. Garak sat by himself and had the biggest meal he'd had in a week. The local who'd picked up the rock wandered by and stopped, looking him over. "Will he live?"

"Perhaps," Garak replied calmly.

"I could get you out, both of you. I suspect you have something of great value to trade." He waited for Garak to reply but there was none. "This plan is doomed. You must know that."

"I have no idea what you refer to," said Garak. It was quite true. Apparently, whatever was in the rock was on no particular importance.

"Well, I will be here until this ends. Consider wisely."

Garak said nothing. There was one other object, still in his coat that he'd carried since the city. He finished his meal and walked a little away to be alone.

Once, without question, he would have saved himself. But now everything was different. Much had changed on Cardassia. He had worked with Starfleet to free it in time. And should he survive this, he would again. But whatever Bashir had given him was of more value than the skills of one decoder. If this man obtained it it would never reach Starfleet. The only thing that would free his people from the Founders grip was an allied victory, and he could not endanger that even to keep his best friend alive.

The dinner break over, discussions resumed. The third man, who had said little, came near Garak when it was done. "See that rock formation? They once revered them." He told Garak what it was called, but it wasn't a local term. Garak reached for a cloth in his jacket to wipe his hands, and passed the other rock, the plain one, to the man. Not a single word was spoken., but Garak was still shaken. He'd passed on things many times before, but not with the cost of condemning his only real friend to death. But if it would save his people the sacrifice was worth it.


	9. Retreat

Escape

ooo0000ooo

No matter how uncertain its success, the plan took effect the next day. During daylight, anything small enough to be portable was packed, and as soon as it was dark enough for cover, the camp emptied to the trail.

There were three ways into the valley, but one had been left unused. It showed no recent wear but it was the hardest of the three which passed through the least accessible places. If a patrol did see them, the escapees would see them first. Perhaps it would not save them but at least there would be no surprises.

With their limited diet and lack of exercise, it was harder than it might have been for everyone. But it was worse for the sick like Bashir, who were not really travel ready. The medicine had run out and his arm was growing worse after its earlier improvement and his fever growing higher. Garak carried one end of the stretcher. But without more medicine some of the sick, perhaps Julian among them, would not survive to be evacuated and reach a hospital. Garak watched the young doctor as he checked on his patients. He could see the lost innocence. It reminded him too much of his dying friend.

But after long hours of marching up rocky trails, they arrived. All but one of the sick survived the trip. It was an open field and their shelter was tents, but there was ample food, and even medical supplies. Watching his friend as he slept, an IV in his arm, Garak wanted Julian to make it. He did not know what would become of him then, but he should not die here.

It was just a stopgap, but they claimed it anyway. A sort of calm mixed with uneasiness settled over the survivors of months of running. The food and medicine was a good faith gesture from the locals, but nobody really trusted them. Perhaps they would never trust anyone ever again. Gathered together, they were too good a target for their hosts enemies.

With nothing to do and too much quiet punctuated by uneasy sounds of nature, Garak watched over his friend. The medicine was helping. Julian ate a little, even if it sometimes was unwanted. He slept rather than passing out, mumbling incoherently. If they reached the Federation again, he would live.

As would Garak. When the station fell he'd thrown his lot with the Federation. Nothing had changed. He would return to decoding padds and perhaps even sewing clothes. But Julian would move on. He would be alone as he always had been. If the rather dubious plan failed, this would be the end. He only hoped it would not take too long to finish.


	10. Abandoned

Retreat

o0o

In the pitch dark night, Garak could not sleep, surrounded by the hoots and rumblings of the wildlife around them. In the other camp it had been somewhat muted but here it made the place feel even more alien. In the darkness he sat listening to the increasingly labored breathing of his friend, wondering if he should have done things differently. The rescue should have come. They had not run, not yet, but everyone had plans. Above them were caves, and perhaps, if they were lucky someone would come in time.

Their protectors were getting nervous. They still brought food, but less. The medicine was growing short and Julian was not fit to travel up the rocky hills. Dragging him up the slopes in the cold of night would kill him if the infection didn't first. Then Garak would be alone in his cave to live or die. But the patrol would kill him on the spot. He preferred the small chance of survival over the certainty of execution.

o0o

Scattered along the hills, hiding in any cover they could find, the survivors hid as they ran. Garak helped carry his friend, the young doctor and friends of a few of the other wounded making a small group slowly making their way toward the hope of safety in the caves. He knew Julian would not survive, but he would not leave him to be murdered.

Word had come the day before. The ship sent to rescue them had been intercepted. There would be no rescue. They had dispersed on their own, their worried hosts having abandoned them. They did not presume that the same people who had sheltered them would not in the end shoot them too.

The young doctor checked Julian's arm. He did not bother to change the bandage. At least unconscious he was not suffering. Garak watched as the young man pulled back the bandage, seeing a vanishing echo of the friend who would soon be dead.

"If we can find shelter, perhaps I can do an amputation."

Garak stared at him, wondering if Julian would say the same. But soon even the bitter man whose labored breathing muted the animals calls would be gone. And Garak would be alone. When he ran out of food, or fell and injured himself, or was discovered, it would finally be done.

It did not have to be this way. He could have given the stone. They would be away. Julian would be in a hospital. And how many others would die in their place? He missed home. But it was in the grip of traitors and the Dominion, and everyone else he might have cared about was dead. Julian would understand. Whatever was left of his home when it was liberated, it would be more than if everyone fell.


	11. Termination

Termination

o0o

It had been two, perhaps three days since they'd reached the caves. Julian was unconscious and would not live long so the doctor had left them, taking those who might where he could try. There was little to eat and when it was gone they'd have to find the rest on their own. He considered the rodents but was not yet ready. By then he would be alone. There was nothing to do but hide and wait for the end.

Perhaps only for Julian, but he saw no satisfaction in surviving when there was nothing to survive for but survival itself. But he would. Because he knew nothing else.

He no longer knew if he'd doomed them for revenge or something loftier, but it didn't matter anymore. He had done the *right* thing. He would die satisfied of that.

In the muggy darkness of the cave time went on forever. The water dripped and echoed and sometimes he could not hear the faint breath that was all that remained of life in his friend. He even slept occasionally. But when the noises came, he woke instantly.

Julian had not moved and did not react. He was beyond that. But he did moan, and disturb the leaves occasionally. Somehow he had to keep Julian perfectly still.

They were just searching, taking their time. Had they found others? Were the young doctor and his patients safe or dead? They did not seem to be looking for anything in particular, just a regular patrol. If Julian could be still, they could hide long enough to survive the day. He remembered the rodents in that building a lifetime ago. There were plenty of them in the caves. Perhaps they would save them again.

The men were getting closer. He retreated further back into deeper shadows but could not move Julian. He would moan. As the patrol drew nearer he hugged the wall, clinging to the shadowy darkness that was hard to penetrate. He made no sound and Julian in his world was just as quiet.

But it was damp. Garak had to shift his foot a tiny bit. He startled one of the cursed rodents. It squeaked and ran right at the patrol.

Garak froze. They were coming towards him now, all of them, shouting too. He stayed still knowing there was no escape.

Someone had a light and they found Bashir. He was dragged out into the natural half-light of his cave. They shined it against the wall and waved their guns at Garak. "Out!"

Garak moved forward, standing in the gloom from the pitted ceiling. Julian lay in a heap on the floor at his feet. One of them kicked the unconscious doctor in his side, and when he didn't respond they ignored him.

No words were said. The commander pointed his rifle at Garak, and his finger sat pressing on the trigger. There was nowhere to run and Garak raised his hands in surrender with the gun pointed at his head.

They treated captives badly, but alive was better than dead.

The rifle was shoved closer and Garak said goodbye. He heard the puff and whine as it fired its projectile. Then everything went black.


	12. Epilog

Epilog

000oo000

Garak came too lying flat on the ground. The sight of the gun pointed at him and the whine as it fired surrounded him. It was murky dark and he wondered if the man had decided to spare him, perhaps shot Julian instead. He must have been taken prisoner. He did not want to be their captive, but even more, did not want to die.

As his eyes focused, he noticed that Julian was lying on the ground next to him, still unconscious. Garak crawled towards him, feeling his forehead. Hot, his clothes soaked in sweat, he guessed the arm was worse from the way Julian cradled it even unconscious.

Garak didn't appear to be hurt, though he had a very bad headache. They must have knocked him out. He looked at the dismal place wondering if this was ever going to end.

He was hungry, tired, and hurt and just wanted to sleep. There was nothing he could do for Julian, so he shifted himself more comfortably and fell into a deep sleep.

oo0oo

He was in the middle of a dream when a sudden noise woke him. Alarmed, he looked towards the bright light at the opening and could see a shape. He heard a murmur of voices. Footsteps were coming near. Garak froze.

"Whatever happened, the lights don't work," said a voice he recognized. Garak wondered if he was feverish as well and hallucinating. He had no idea why he'd conger Quark. He had thought they were in a cave, but it looked more like a room now.

"I'll work on that first, Brother," said the Rom-voice. Garak was even more perplexed. There was no reason for Rom to be there.

A strong light moved along the wall, carried by one of the shapes. There were noises. "Just as long as it's working by evening. Garak and Bashir tied up the other one for hours. I had to turn customers away." The Quark-shape did not sound happy.

Garak wished they'd go away. He assumed he'd get no more treatment than Julian and just wanted to sleep. He had a terrible headache and wanted it dark again. But the two shapes and the bright light wouldn't leave. He just closed his eyes and tried to ignore them.

They continued to talk, on and off, as Garak rested. He wanted to check on Julian but feared it would attract attention. But he was shaken awake when one of the shapes nearly fell on top of him.

"Somebody's in here," said the Quark-shape, and a bright light briefly blinded him. "Both of them." The shapes were crouched around them, and Garak was certain they were real now. But they were not really Quark and Rom. They couldn't be.

"The doctor's sick," said the Rom-voice. Julian let out a groan. "He's hurt too. His arm, it's bandaged."

"Security," said the Quark-voice. "Odo, I don't know what this is but we have a medical emergency. Don't bother with Bashir. It's him."

Garak had been lying still, pretending to be out, when someone touched him. He didn't move, unable to tell what was real and what he imagined. There were more footsteps, more voices, a jumble of them. His head was pounding and the glow of the bright lights made it worse. He opened his eyes for a quick glance, stunned by the sight of the combination of Starfleet and Bajoran uniforms, and what looked like Quark's holosuite. He shut them, pushing away the fantasy. He wanted to be rescued. He was dreaming of it. That is why these figments were here.

"Both of them are in shock, but Bashir is very ill. And get him into Isolation immediately. He has an unknown virus. Garak too, since he's been exposed," said an unfamiliar voice.

Someone started to lift him and he fainted.

ooo0000ooo

Garak hadn't spoken to Julian since he'd been released from the Infirmary, the doctor suffering from a mutation of the disease he'd had on Abersand's's Station, and was still trying to sort out the events of what had proven to be an evening in the holosuite. But it did not feel like that. The rifle had fired; he should be dead. Julian was very sick, and his arm badly infected. And somehow it had happened in an evening. Even now, the doctor did not look well. He'd drifted into the Replimat once, just after his release from confinement to quarters, and had eaten hurriedly. Garak had noticed Julian looking at him, his expression unreadable. He'd eaten alone, ignoring everyone. He had locked himself inside his quarters after that and this was the first time he'd been seen for three days.

Despite all the questions, he'd offered no answers except the program should have been run with the safties on. But Garak had done his own checking. The holosuite they had rented was in operation the entire time. The one that had malfunctioned, in which Bashir's program had been running, had run Vic's lounge the night before. Somehow, Bashir's program had made a few hours into days or weeks or longer. He was no longer sure where they'd entered the story. It had filled in all the blanks with memories he'd never experienced, but even now they felt quite real. He'd gone over the whole experience in great detail trying to make sense of it. The times after waking from sleep were the sharpest memories. He wondered if it had been as real to Julian, or if he'd retained an awareness that it was a simulation. He knew that neither he nor Julian had mentioned the odd time factor to the authorities.

The supposed malfunction had occurred sometime after Julian had left Vic's and Quark had discovered it in the morning. Every possible check had been run and all that was found were predictable failures. The only explanation that made sense was they had wandered in in the dark and been hit by a shock. No one tried to explain the arm, though the disease could come on that quickly. But Garak knew there was more if you knew where to look. There was, or more likely there had been, a very special device in that room. By the time security dismantled the holosuite it was gone. Or perhaps when the program was done it had erased itself. All Bashir seemed to know is he should not have disabled the safties. He'd been reprimanded and confined to quarters. He was still relieved of duty until his hearing, which Garak had no doubt would clear him.

But that morning, Julian was different. This was the first time he'd been out since his sudden retreat. He looked tired, but more than that. He was wearing civilian clothes as well, unusual for him. There was something resigned about him that hadn't been there before, like a scared child who knew nobody would help even after a severe beating. Garak was keeping an eye on his friend. This new change in mood was very alarming. He'd given up, though Garak had no idea why or what. His morose mood cast a warning to everyone around him to stay away.

But that evening, Julian came into his shop. Still in civilian clothes, he was looking at the merchandise. "I think I'd like a new outfit," he told Garak.

After looking around, Julian had selected what he wanted and tried them on. He was dressed entirely in black. In the privacy of the fitting room, he dropped the false cheer. He was standing, watching himself in the mirror, as Garak spoke.

"It suits you," he said, quite sincerely.

There was a sudden flash of anger quickly lost in hopeless resignation. Then Bashir went utterly cold. "Now it does," he said.

Garak was cautious. The tone of the last comment struck him as dangerous. He thought of the way Sisko kept an eye on the doctor with a wary expression beneath the official one.

"You look quite attractive," he said.

"It didn't before," said Julian, ignoring Garak's comment. There was a hint of great loss.

Garak decided to ask, danger or not. "What happened in that holosuite? Don't tell me it was just an accident."

Julian studied him. "Call it a test. You're lucky. You passed. It wouldn't be a good idea to ask any more questions. Just some friendly advise." But the tone was anything but friendly.

Garak knew it was time to leave it alone, but what about the illness? "You said it wasn't supposed to go that way. Did you mean you didn't expect to hurt yourself?" He kept to himself the other odd mumbles.

There was fear in his eyes. "I should not have said that. For both our sakes, please never repeat it." Garak did not have to be asked. But he appreciated the sincerity in his voice.

"Certainly. Why did you run the program with the safties off?" Garak kept his voice steady, with little inflection.

Julian was nervous. He wasn't supposed to talk about this. Someone had already made sure he understood that. "The danger had to be real. You would not have believed it otherwise." He spoke in a calm voice, but Garak could smell the fear behind it. He wasn't supposed to do that either. He'd been severely disciplined by someone recently, someone he was afraid of, and Garak was sure it wasn't Sisko.

But Garak had discovered what he wanted to know. "This conversation never took place," he said.

Julian nodded, in silent understanding. He said, his voice normal, "How much do I owe you for the clothes?"

Garak studied him. "Nothing. Call them a present for your birthday."

Julian nodded, gravely. "I won't be around much. I can't take the chance. It's nothing personal."

Garak nodded, watching him leave with his new clothes. Whoever had created that "test" was certainly not Felix. He didn't expect to see anymore of the wonderful adventures Felix had created. That was where he had learned to play.

He would miss them, and he would miss his friend more. But, he thought, watching the black-clad figure as he entered Quarks, his friend was already gone.


End file.
